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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23945956">Moving Day: part two</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/zephalien/pseuds/zephalien'>zephalien</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>paul and hardy [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Broadchurch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Friendship, Gen, Moving, Post-Canon, Religious Conflict</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 00:55:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>784</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23945956</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/zephalien/pseuds/zephalien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Beth helps Paul move into his new flat and they almost sort of have a conversation.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Paul Coates &amp; Beth Latimer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>paul and hardy [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1598026</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Moving Day: part two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I can’t believe you really quit.” Beth says, heaving a huge sigh as she sits on a box she hauled in with Paul’s help. He shoots her a sardonic smirk.</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Beth.” Paul says, a slight edge to his voice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” She retorts, defensive.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You never even went to church.” Paul says, blank faced, sitting down on the floor against his new (old, worn down) kitchen counter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So?” She asks then rolls her eyes at his rankled expression. “You knew that when we became friends.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Are we friends?” Paul asks, tone suddenly very low and introspective, but Beth just snorts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Men!” She laughs. “You think I’d be huffing and puffing lugging your things up two flights to this dodgy place if we weren’t?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She takes in his cowed expression and softens. “Oh, Paul. Of course we are. Why wouldn’t you think so?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sighs, head tilting to knock gently against a cabinet. “I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Paul.” She says again, then when he manages a shy glance she follows it with, “You’re an idiot.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He snorts, mood lightened. “Thank you. I’m quite aware.” </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Oh?” Beth questions over the crackle of the water bottle she twists open to chug heartily.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know what I mean.” He says, defenses rising once more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I don’t know what you mean.” She mocks in a goofy voice. She’s sweaty and lighthearted and Paul thinks in another context, if he were someone else, he might have fallen in love with her just from this moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Church. You. Mark.” He pauses, uncertain. “I’ve been seeing Alec Hardy around a lot… which… never goes well.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>She lets out an ugly guffaw that only warms him to her further. “Sorry and all those are reasons why <em>you’re</em> an idiot?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>She says it like he’s the most ridiculous man she’s ever met. In his sorry state, he feels he could hug her (if they weren’t both covered in sweat). “Beth.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Paul.” She responds, silly again. He knows she’s being stubborn on purpose, but so is he. “Mark isn’t your responsibility. No.” She says when she sees his mouth open. “He isn’t. He’s a grown man and neither me nor you could have stopped this. If anyone could, it was me, but I couldn’t, Paul. You can’t blame yourself for other people. As for me, what about me? I’m here, ain’t I? I’m living and breathing and sweating like mad in this ugly flat and I’m okay.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He looks at her intently and she stares him down stubbornly. “I am.” She insists.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He just hums in response and she continues undeterred. “And as for the church, you’re in your 30s. You’re passionate and you’re smart. If they don’t want you, you’ll find something else. Something right. I have. I help people at my work too. Church isn’t the only place for that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I never said they didn’t want me.” Paul protests quietly, perturbed by her astute nature, not for the first time. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>She raises an eyebrow and lets the dust of her little speech settle in his chest in favor of taking another long pull from her water bottle. He does the same.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You never said you had been seeing Hardy.” Beth says thoughtfully as he drinks and he chokes a little. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Sorry?” He gasps, coughing long enough to recover his wits and realize what she meant. “Oh, uh, yes. We, um,” He pauses to cough a little more, “ran into each other… a few times.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beth, poised to stand in alarm at his coughing fit, relaxes back onto her box, eyebrows twitching up. “That’s… interesting.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He eyes her. “I don’t like that tone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She just shrugs and makes a weird face. “He just… doesn’t seem like a people person.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She swigs a suspiciously timed gulp from her bottle, eyes on him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He lets out a sarcastic snort along with a slightly too fond, “He isn’t.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He knows he’s already said too much by Beth’s grin and the way she tilts her head. “Oh, and I suppose you’d know all about that?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>His flush and stammering jumbled response only serves to expose him further.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is that so?” She responds with a wicked grin on her face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He isn’t. He’s terrible.” Paul protests, grinning a bit shyly despite himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure.” Beth nods, eyeing him with humor in her expression.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, hush you.” Paul fake grumbles. “Oh look. More boxes.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<span>He feigns surprise that the borrowed pickup is still somewhat stocked with things downstairs, and out of sight, and walks out the door abruptly. </span>
  <span></span><br/>

  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Oh, Paul! I’m only teasing!” She calls after him and, with an eye roll and one more sip of water, follows him to finish carrying the last of his things.</span>
</p>
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